


Gryfftherin Globe Trotting

by Meltha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, Travel, dramione_ldws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meltha/pseuds/Meltha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Draco/Hermione ficlets that take place all around the world. Their first stop is Brazil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Goes Up - Sao Paulo, Brazil

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters are owned by J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made from this fanfic.
> 
> Author's note: Written for round 5, challenge 1 at dramione_ldws: must be based Sao Paulo, Brazil; must use a fact about the city, first person Draco POV.

I am not going to be sick. The thought is utterly ridiculous. In my schooldays I was capable of keeping my wits and my breakfast even during the steepest of dives after the Snitch, so there is no precedent at all. I am fine. I am perfectly fine.

“Draco, are you feeling well?” Hermione asks, a frown of concern on her face mixing with puzzlement.

“Yes,” I say, but it’s through gritted teeth.

“Really? Because you’ve turned a rather impressive shade of Slytherin green,” she says, and now there’s a suppressed laugh in her voice. “Didn’t you tell stories about escaping from helicopters on your broomstick back when you were in first year? Don’t tell me the great and powerful Draco Malfoy was exaggerating his abilities!”

“Oh, shut it, you,” I say, and I swear someone is rolling Gobstones back and forth in my stomach. “Besides, I never said I was in one of the bloody things. Let’s get back to work so this unnatural Muggle contraption can put us back on solid ground. This was really a stupid idea.”

“Sao Paulo has more helicopters than anywhere else,” Hermione says primly. “We couldn’t possibly fly brooms here without Muggles noticing, and the Ministry needs us to do aerial observation to check for signs of illegal dragon smuggling.”

“Does the pilot have to keep bobbing up and down like this, though?” I ask, and I don’t care if it’s a whine. “And those blades! They keep whirring around and around and… oh, Merlin!”

“Do you need the air sick bag?” she says quickly, moving back as though she’s afraid I’m going to splatter her pretty new sundress. 

“No, not that, look!” I say, pointing beneath us.

Sure enough, hidden in one of the poorer sections of town and undoubtedly surrounded by dozens of Muggle-Repelling Charms, are seven or eight adolescent dragons. They’re in a paddock surrounded by buildings that would make them invisible at ground level, but they’re quite obvious from here. The dragons must be sedated since they’re just lying about and snoozing. The Muggle pilot doesn’t notice a thing.

“Have you got the coordinates?” I ask and glance over to see her using one of those GPS things.

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll owl the Ministry as soon as we get back to the hotel.”

“Then we can land?” I ask in relief.

She smiles, motioning for the pilot to set us down on a nearby helipad on the top of a skyscraper. She pays him and we leave, taking the elevator down. Somehow, we’re the only ones on it. How terribly convenient.

“Hermione?” I say, kissing her neck. “Did you know one of the best cures for motion sickness is lying down for a while?”

“Is it?” she asks slyly.

“Mmmm,” I confirm. “Care to join me when we get back to the hotel?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well leave a sick comrade alone, could I?” she says.

I think I’m beginning to love Brazil.


	2. Starbucks and Slammers - Seattle, Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione wind up in Seattle, and Draco is dragged to something against his will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Written in response to the round 5, challenge 2 of dramione_ldws: Seattle, Washington as a setting, using any historical or other fact about the city.

“But I don’t even like poetry!” Draco whinged as Hermione half-dragged him towards the venue in question. “All that stupid ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ stuff.”

“That’s not the sort of poetry they’re doing,” Hermione said. “This is a poetry slam. Seattle is known for its spoken word artists, and if we’re in luck we should hear some really wonderful performances.”

“Yeah, great,” Draco said sullenly. “Can I at least take my coffee inside with me? It’s really rather good for being Muggle-made.”

“I’m Muggle-made,” Hermione pointed out coldly.

“Well, yes, but I can’t expect everything to reach the lofty pinnacles of your towering success over your lineage,” he said magnanimously, but the grin on his face kept her from doing anything more than giving him an elbow jab to the ribs.

“For someone who hates poetry, that was rather flowery. Anyway, here we are,” she said, leading the way to a pair of seats near the front of the packed room, just to the side of the single microphone and stool that stood waiting in the spotlight.

“I don’t believe we crossed half the globe to go to a poetry reading,” Draco said, shaking his head.

“It’s a poetry slam, not a reading,” she corrected, “and we’re not even twenty percent of the way around the world, so stop complaining.”

It was times like this when Draco needed to remind himself that Hermione was gorgeous, witty, and intelligent. It didn’t hurt that she was double joined, either.

The lights dimmed and applause started, and once the slammers took the stage, Draco was shocked to realize he was mesmerized. The poets battled back and forth with words like extremely good Beaters hitting a Bludger from one to the other. He had to admit that half the time he wasn’t quite sure what they were on about, but it was still exhilarating. Finally, the winner was crowned, and Draco found himself cheering just as loudly as everyone else.

“So, do you still hate poetry?” Hermione asked as they headed back towards their hotel room, a posh, luxury penthouse suite with a glorious view of Puget Sound.

“No,” Draco admitted. “In fact, I might start writing some myself.”

“Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow quizzically. “Such as?”

He paused on the sidewalk, then knelt melodramatically in front of her, taking one hand in his own and assuming a sappy expression before opening his mouth and reciting.

“There once was a Muggleborn from Nantucket…,” he began in tones worthy of a Shakespearean orator until she clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Finish that poem and I’ll Transfigure all your coffee into bilge water,” she threatened him.

“I’ll stop,” he said as he stood, then leaned in closer to whisper, “as long as we get back to the hotel room and finish it in private.”

“Naughty boy,” Hermione said, glaring at him, but they did begin walking at a significantly faster pace.


	3. A New Experience - Tokyo, Japan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione are off to Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Written for round 5, challenge 3 of dramione_ldws: use Tokyo, Japan as a setting and incorporate a fact from its Wikipedia page.

“I thought we were going to a tea ceremony,” Hermione said uncertainly as she looked up at the Ryôgoku Kokugikan in Tokyo.

“No, I said we were going to a cultural event,” Draco said. “For pity’s sake, Hermione, we’re English! It’s not like we’ve never drunk tea before! I thought you wanted to do something we could only do in Japan.”

“Well, yes,” Hermione said, still not sounding entirely convinced. “What exactly are we going to see?”

“A honbasho,” Draco said, sounding eager. “It’s one of the biggest sumo wrestling events!”

“Sumo?” Hermione asked, trying to keep the distaste from her tone, but Draco seemed to have picked up on her note of disappointment.

“It’s supposed to be very exciting,” he said coaxingly. “Robbins down at the office went last year, and he said it’s really something.”

“Oh, fine. I’m willing to give it a go,” Hermione said, her nose still wrinkling a tad in a way that reminded him not unpleasantly of his mother.

As they took their seats in the unfamiliar stadium, Hermione realized that for once in their lives she and Draco were on equal footing. Japan was as foreign to her as it was to him. While Draco was still baffled by Muggle technology, Hermione often felt similarly out of her element with the intricate etiquette of pure-blood families. Here in Tokyo, they were both beginners. It was really quite exhilarating.

Finally, the crowd roared as the wrestlers appeared.

“They’re not wearing very much, are they,” Hermione said delicately as she stifled a giggle.

Draco gulped rather loudly as he saw the sheer size of the men in front of him.

“Traditional, I suppose,” he said.

They watched as the two wrestlers took sips of water, patted their mouths dry, and then threw handfuls of salt in the ring. Hermione and Draco looked at one another and shrugged.

It was clear enough, though, when the wrestling began as the crowd cheered wildly and the men grappled in the ring. When one of the competitors broke the circle, obviously the other fellow had won. After the first match came a second, then a third, and a fourth, and on until finally both of them began to cheer for wrestlers they recognized from earlier rounds. By the end of the day, they were hoarse and tired, but they left the stadium smiling.

“I admit, that was definitely a new experience,” Hermione said. 

“So you’re saying I won our bet?” he asked.

“I don’t remember making any bet with you,” she said testily.

“Ah, but wouldn’t it be more fun if we had and you could spend this evening paying me back?” he suggested with a wink.

“Maybe,” she said, smirking at him, “but only if tomorrow night I get to win.”

“Shall we wrestle for it?” he asked.

“Maybe back in the room,” she said as the Tokyo night swept them off into a sea of sparkling lights.


	4. From Here to the Moon - Perth, Australia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco visit the Grangers in Perth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Originally written for dramione_ldws, round 5, challnege 4: use Perth, Australia as a backdrop, including any fact from its Wikipedia page, and written in first person Hermione's POV.

“Your parents are nice,” he says as we walk through Barrack Square. “I think everything went fine.”

“Yes,” I say, but part of me is breathing a sigh of relief.

This could have been the worst catastrophe since Boris the Bewildered and his dancing trolls, but somehow it turned out much better than I expected, especially since Mum and Dad are still pretty much confused by anything in the wizarding world and Draco by anything in the Muggle one. 

I hadn’t expected them to stay in Australia after I lifted the spell, but whether it’s a lingering effect or they just liked the Perth, they’ve made it their permanent home. It’s rather lonely sometimes, not having any family left living in Britain, but Draco is becoming family to me. Still, he did look more than a little panicked when I suggested he meet my parents. Then again, wizard or not, he’s still a man, and I suppose in some ways they’re all alike.

“What’s that thing?” he asks suddenly, pointing.

“The Swan Bells,” I say, and we stroll in their direction.

Draco laughs, and I give him my patented Raised Eyebrow of Curiosity.

“I thought it was a rocket ship,” he says, and I have to laugh too because it’s ridiculous and because it does look like something that might launch itself into space.

“No free rides to the moon today courtesy of Muggle technology,” I say.

“Who’d want to go there anyway?” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Dusty, barren, nothing but rocks.”

“We’ve already been once,” I say, happy to brag about Muggle accomplishments for once.

“So? Wizards got there in 1542,” he says, and I admit, and I almost give myself whiplash my head turns so quickly.

“You’re kidding!” 

“No,” he says nonchalantly. “Ricardinius Ptarmigan Apparated that far.”

“But… the air!” I say.

“Full Body Bubble Charm,” Draco says with a shrug. “He walked around for an hour then went home. He said it was the most boring thing he’d ever seen. No one’s bothered again.”

“And why have I never heard of this before?” I ask, annoyed at not knowing such an important fact.

“Because I just made it up?” Draco says, grinning widely, and I whack him over the head with my purse as he laughs hysterically. “You should have seen your face! You really thought there was something you didn’t know about!”

“I’m going to kill you, Malfoy!” I yell, but I’m laughing too, and he grabs my hands and brings them to his chest, holding them over his heart.

“Really want to find out something you don’t know?” he asks, his voice more controlled.

“What?” 

“I’m going to marry you,” he says, smiling.

I can’t breath, but when I can, I manage to muster enough cheek to say, “No need to ask me?”

“Didn’t think so,” he says, ever the egotist until a cloud of doubt passes over his eyes and he adds, “is there?”

“No,” I say, and he looks aghast. “I mean yes! I mean I’ll marry you, you stupid sod!” 

The Swan Bells begin to ring, and we kiss to an outbreak of spontaneous applause by everyone in the square. Yes, going to Perth was a wonderful idea.


	5. Cold Hands, Warm Heart - Moscow, Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco find themselves freezing their rubles off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Written for round 5, challenge 5 of dramione_ldws: Moscow as a backdrop, using facts from its Wikipedia page,

“I’m cold,” was what Draco really said, but the constant chattering of his teeth made the last word seem to have at least eighteen syllables.

Hermione was no better off herself, so all she did was nod in response and draw her scarf more tightly over her face. Moscow was beautiful in the midst of one of its many snowstorms, like a scene from the Nutcracker, all whirling white flakes against a backdrop of multi-colored onion domes. Unfortunately, she’d prefer to watch the spectacle through the window of a nice, posh restaurant with a cup of kvass in front of her. 

As it was, the pair of them were trudging through the city at midnight, frozen to the bone, trying to track down a wayward Yeti of all things that had somehow escaped the confines of the Moscow Magical Zoo and done a runner for Moscow River. The Russian wizards were rather thinly staffed at the moment due to an influx of Persian Pixies in the southwest region of the county, and when the head of their Animal Control Department had called Hogwarts for help, Hermione had received an enthusiastic recommendation from their Care of Magical Creatures teacher as “Th’ best you’ll find fer th’ job. She’ll plum enjoy it!”

Draco wasn’t specifically requested, but she’d chosen him as back up, and he’d agreed to come. Now, here they were in the middle of a blizzard in January. Hermione was silently bemoaning her inability to get Draco to ask her on an actual date and that her own twisted attempt at asking him involved searching for a crazed Yeti in subzero temperatures. Just as she was about to give the whole thing up as a bad job…

“Stupify!”

He’d shot the spell over her shoulder, landing it directly between the Yeti’s eyes as it had appeared only a few feet from them in the blinding whiteness, jaws spread wide. She stared at it, shaken, but sent pink sparks into the air, the signal for the zoo to pick up their wayward charge.

“Can I for Merlin’s bloody sake buy you a damn drink now? Preferably a hot one?” he asked, his teeth still chattering.

In spite of the weather, she laughed and nodded. Moscow might not turn out to be so horrid after all.


	6. Festive Mood - Mumbai, India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a new setting brings up past issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for round 5, challenge 6 of dramione_ldws: Mumbai, India as a backdrop and using facts from it's Wikipedia page.

“It’s an elephant,” Draco said.

“It’s not just any elephant!” Hermione said in a shocked whisper as the revelers in the street danced before the ornate statue. 

“Okay, it’s a pink elephant with four arms, then,” Draco said, giving her a look of deepest skepticism. “I’ll grant you, that’s unusual.”

“That’s Ganesh,” Hermione said, nodding towards the image. “Hindus celebrate his birthday now, and it’s a really big festival in Mumbai.”

“I kind of got that idea,” Draco said as he watched the people forming the parade, all of them dressed in their colorful best and chanting hymns and mantras. “This does look like one highly memorable party.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, glad that their business in the India branch of the Ministry had been cleared up so quickly. “Ganesh is supposed to be the remover of all obstacles. It’s really quite fascinating.”

“Remover of obstacles, eh?” Draco said, looking at her appraisingly. “I rather like the sound of that.”

Without the least bit of warning, he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her to face him. Her shocked expression at once mellowed as he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss, the sound of the music and the swirls of color in the background making the moment feel like something out of a very vivid dream.

“You taste like coconut,” he said finally when they parted.

“Modak,” she said quietly, “a sweet made for the festival.”

“Nice,” he said, sweeping in for yet another kiss. “Nicer.”

“And just what exactly has gotten into you?” she said when he at last let her up for air.

“Complaining?” he asked, smirking at her.

“Not especially, no,” she admitted, “but I rather thought your pureblood sensibilities would be scandalized by kissing a Muggle-born in public.”

He frowned at her, his mouth quirking up uncomfortably.

“That isn’t me anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time now. I just needed a good excuse to get past it, and you gave me one,” he said.

“Remover of obstacles,” Hermione said with a smile as the procession became even louder.

“Say, what exactly are they doing to that statue?” Draco suddenly asked, sounding alarmed. “It looks like they’re drowning it!”

“Hmm? Oh, they’re sending it into the river to return Ganesh to his previous home,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Draco said, looking mildly placated. “I suppose that’s alright, then.”

“I thought you said it was just a pink elephant with four arms,” Hermione teased him.

“Maybe,” Draco said, giving her a squeeze, “but I’ve grown rather fond of him.”


	7. Nomenclature - Florence, Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slight language problem has Draco confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for round 5, challenge 7 of dramione_ldws: use Florence, Italy as a backdrop along with a fact from its Wikipedia page.

“I thought you said we were going to visit Firenze,” Draco said suspiciously once the portkey had brought them, with an indecorous bump, into a small alleyway that opened onto a sunlit, bustling square.

“But we are visiting Firenze,” Hermione said, grinning with a slightly sneaky expression.

“I’m noting a dramatic absence of the scent of carrots, hay, and sweaty horse,” Draco said, sniffing the air, “and a definite increase in the aroma of olive oil and prosciutto. Are we in Italy?”

“Of course,” Hermione said, actually giggling. “Firenze is the Italian name for Florence, you know, so I really wasn’t fibbing.”

“Florence?” Draco asked. “Seriously? You’re telling me that giant, hulking centaur’s name is actually Florence?”

“Well, technically, yes,” Hermione said. “Why?”

“Like the bird from The Brady Bunch?” Draco said, laughing hysterically. “That is just too rich!”

“I knew introducing you to Muggle television was going to be a bad idea,” she said, groaning. 

“Fine. We’re not visiting the Forbidden Forest’s favorite prodigal son,” Draco said. “Why Florence?”

“Why not?” Hermione answered. “It has incredible food, beautiful scenery, gorgeous architecture, and all the Renaissance era wizarding history to see, like the da Vinci laboratories. You know, he was one of the few Muggles to figure out the existence of witches and wizards after the International Secrecy was passed. He was so stupendously brilliant, and he worked as a liaison between the two cultures for decades before…”

Draco cut off her historical lecture with a particularly fervent kiss.

“And also, there’s that,” Hermione said after she got her breath back.

“What?” he asked.

“Personally, I think kisses are just somehow better in Italy,” she said, smiling coyly as she pulled him towards the colorful marketplace in the square.

“Hey, wait!” he said suddenly. “How do you know that? We’ve never been to Italy before!”

She only laughed again and led him deeper into the maze or booths filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, keeping her secrets.


	8. You Never Forget... If You Know - Lyons, France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing a Malfoy can't do, except, of course, admit when he can't do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for round 5, challenge 8 at dramione_ldws, which required Lyon, France as a backdrop and facts from its Wikipedia page.

“Will you just hop on already?” Hermione said, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“Do you have any idea how many people have used that bicycle?” Draco said dismissively, pointing at one of the free bicycles Lyon provided for a half hour at a time to the public. “It’s completely unsanitary.”

“Oh really?” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You can’t ride a bicycle, can you?”

“You’re bonkers!” Draco said, looking aghast. “You’ve seen me ride a broomstick dozens of times!”

“A broomstick is not a bicycle,” Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, so there’s some sort of pedaling thing involved in this and it doesn’t fly. Aside from that, I’d say it’s the same thing,” he said.

“You’d be wrong,” Hermione said quietly, shaking her head, but he paid no attention as he flung one leg over the seat of a bike, spurred on by her belief that there was something he couldn’t do.

He sat triumphantly on his mount as she chose her own, then frowned.

“Exactly how do you start this thing?” he asked. “Does it need a key like that car thing?”

“You just pedal, Draco,” Hermione said, hiding a grin. “There’s no engine in it.”

“Huh. All right, but I still think it’s odd,” Draco said, and he put his feet on the peddles.

He tottering crazily to one side and sprawling over the thankfully vacant road. He hopped to his feet at once, obviously embarrassed and red in the face, and Hermione realized that he really did need lessons if he was going to avoid a major accident.

“Here, let’s walk these over to that park,” she said. “You can, um, get used to it over there,” she added, carefully avoid the word “learn.”

He sniffed disdainfully, but followed her, pushing his bike, the pedals kicking him in the shins every few steps. Hermione did prove to be an excellent teacher, and in a little more than an hour, Draco was wobbling a great deal less than before.

“Fine, now we can go off to that book museum thing you wanted to see so badly,” he said, and they ventured into the streets of Lyon.

Unfortunately, Draco couldn’t help being a little over-confident.

“Hey, why don’t we take that tree-lined road over that way!” he called over his shoulder, and before Hermione could yell out “No!” he had ridden face-first into a highly realistic trompe l’oeil painting on the side of a nearby building.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing her bike to a perfect stop next to him.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “What do you say we skip the bikes and just take a bus?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Hermione said as they headed off, leaving the bikes at a nearby collection station. 

She made a point of not noticing when Draco rather firmly kicked his on the fender.


	9. The Benefits of Over-Packing - Malfoy Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacations are a wonderfully relaxing experience until you get home. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the final challenge of round 5 at dramione_ldws: There's no place like home, exactly 375 words.

“We’re home,” Draco said blearily as he and Hermione staggered out of the fireplace at Malfoy Manor. “Thank Merlin.”

Three seconds later a series of thuds announced the arrival of all ten pieces of their luggage.

“Remind me again why we went on holiday?” Draco asked her.

“To relax,” she said as she sprawled on the floor.

“So why the hell are we so exhausted we can’t walk to the other side of the room?” he asked, sitting on a footstool and looking like he wanted to remain there the rest of his life.

“Jet lag… err, floo lag,” Hermione said. “Or maybe the trouble we had after drinking the water.”

“Or the constant chanting in the streets during that period of civil unrest,” Draco added.

“Or our hotel mattress that seemed to be made of Petrified Blast-Ended Skrewts,” Hermione threw in.

“Or the indigestion from eating that stuff two nights ago,” Draco said. “What was that anyway?”

“I have no idea,” she said, “but I won’t be eating it again, ever, at any time.”

Draco grunted agreement, staring morosely at the luggage.

“Did you wear even half of that stuff?” he asked.

“No, and neither did you,” she said defensively.

Suddenly, Hermione slowly lifted her head, and Draco noticed a look of wicked, albeit tired, realization dawning on her features. Groaning, she rolled over and she undid the clasp on one of the bags and began rooting through it.

“Tell me you didn’t buy that ugly reproduction of that art thing that looked like something a toddler drew with catsup,” Draco said.

“No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” Hermione said, continuing to rummage. “Found it!”

She pulled out a nearly transparent black-lace teddy and tiny matching knickers. Draco abruptly felt much less tired.

“That’s definitely something you didn’t get around to wearing,” he said, grinning. 

“Shall I save it for the next holiday?” she asked innocently.

“Yeah, and that would be the holiday we’re taking right now, upstairs, in the bedroom,” he said, running across the room, lifting his giggling wife off the floor, slinging her (and the lingerie) over his shoulder, and dashing up the stairs with surprising vigor.

Both of them agreed: there was no place like home.


End file.
